Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library)

by Afanas'Ev, Aleksandr

  He walked and walked, and came to the golden kingdom. He entered it and saw a maiden more beautiful than the others. So he asked a blessing and saluted the maiden, as is becoming. The maiden began to ask him whence he came and whither he was going. “Ah, fair maiden,” said he, “you have not given me food nor drink, yet you ask me questions.” So she put all kinds of food and drink on the table, the best imaginable. Ivashko Lie-on-the-Stove treated himself amply to everything, and began to tell his story: “I am on my way to find a bride. If you wish to be my wife, come with me.” The maiden consented, and gave him a golden ball. They set out together. They walked and walked, and came to the silver kingdom; there they took the maiden with them; and again they walked and walked, and came to the copper kingdom; there, too, they took the maiden. Then all of them went to the hole from which they had to climb out, and they found the thongs hanging there. And the elder brothers were already standing by the hole, about to climb into it to find Ivashko.

  Now Ivashko seated the maiden from the copper kingdom on the thongs and shook them; the brothers pulled and lifted out the maiden, and lowered the thongs again. Then Ivashko seated the maiden from the silver kingdom, and the brothers pulled her out, and sent down the thongs. Finally he seated the maiden from the golden kingdom, and the brothers pulled her out too, and dropped back the thongs. Ivashko now seated himself on them; his brothers pulled him too, pulled and pulled, but when they saw that it was Ivashko they thought: “If we pull him out he might refuse to give us a maiden.” And they cut the thongs, and Ivashko fell down. Well, there was nothing he could do; he wept and wept, and then went on. He walked and walked, and this is what he saw. On a tree trunk sat an old man as big as an inch, with a beard a cubit long. Ivashko told him everything that had happened to him, and how. The old man instructed him to go farther. “You will come to a little house,” he said, “and in the house there lies a man so tall that he stretches from corner to corner, and you must ask him how to get to Russia.”

  So Ivashko walked and walked, and came to the little house; he entered it and said: “Mighty giant, do not kill me. Tell me how to get to Russia.” “Fie, fie!” said the giant. “No one asked these Russian bones to come here; they have come by themselves. Well, go beyond thirty lakes. There a little house stands on a chicken leg, and in the house lives Baba Yaga. She has an eagle, and he will take you out.”

  The good youth walked and walked, and came to the little house. He entered it, and Baba Yaga cried: “Fie, fie, fie! Russian bones, why have you come here?” Then Ivashko said: “Little grandmother, I came by order of the mighty giant to ask for your powerful eagle, that he might take me up to Russia.” “Go to the garden,” said Baba Yaga. “At the gate there stands a sentry. Take the keys from him and go beyond seven doors. As you open the last door, the eagle will flutter his wings, and if you are not frightened by him, sit on him and fly. Only take some meat with you, and each time he looks back, give him a piece.” Ivashko did as Baba Yaga told him. He sat on the eagle and off they flew. They flew and flew; the eagle looked back, and Ivashko gave him a piece of meat. They flew and flew, and he gave meat to the eagle often; and now he had given the eagle all the meat he had, and there was still a long distance to fly. The eagle looked back, and there was no meat; so the eagle plucked a piece of flesh from Ivashko’s shoulder, ate it, and dragged him out through the same hole to Russia. When Ivashko got down off the eagle, the eagle spat out the piece of flesh and told him to put it back into his shoulder. Ivashko did so, and his shoulder healed. He came home, took the maiden of the golden kingdom from his brothers, and they began to live happily together and are still living. I was at their wedding and drank beer. The beer ran along my mustache but did not go into my mouth.

  THE PIKE WITH THE LONG TEETH

  THE NIGHT BEFORE St. John’s a pike was born in the Sheksna River, a pike with teeth so long that God preserve us from any such! Shad, perch, flounder—all assembled to stare and marvel at this wonder. At the time of the birth, the water in the Sheksna became agitated, a ferryboat sailing across it almost sank, and some lovely maidens who were taking a walk on the riverbank scattered. Such a long-toothed pike was he! And he began to grow not by the day, but by the hour; with every day that passed, an inch was added to his size. And the pike with the long teeth began to roam about the Sheksna catching shad and perch. He would sight a shad from afar, snatch him with his teeth, and the shad was as good as gone; only his bones crackled between the pike’s long teeth. Such was the marvelous happening in the Sheksna.

  Now what could the shad and perch do? They were very sad: if things went on like this, the pike would eat them all, wipe them out. So all the small fry gathered together and debated about how to get rid of that ravenous pike with the long teeth. To the meeting also came Perch Perchson, who held forth in a loud voice: “Stop pondering, racking your wits, and cudgeling your brains. Listen to what I have to say. All of us in the Sheksna are now sorely tried. The pike with the long teeth gives us no rest: he gobbles up all kinds of fish. There’s no life for us any more in the Sheksna! Let us move to smaller rivers, to the Sizma, the Konoma, and the Slavenka. There no one will bother us, and we’ll live happily and beget children.” So all the shad, flounder, and perch left the Sheksna for the smaller rivers, for the Sizma, the Konoma, and the Slavenka. On the way, as they swam, a cunning fisherman caught many of them on his line. He cooked a savory fish soup, and, it appears, ate it on a fast day. From that time on, almost no small fry has been found in the Sheksna. A fisherman can cast his line into the water and pull out nothing; once in a while he gets a little sterlet—nothing else. And that is the whole story of the ravenous pike with the long teeth. That rascal caused a lot of trouble in the Sheksna, but later he came to a bad end himself. When there was no small fry left, he went after worms and got caught on a hook. The fisherman made a fish soup out of him, ate it, and praised it highly, for the flesh of the pike was quite succulent. I was there and ate the soup with him; it ran down my mustache but never got into my mouth.

  THE BAD WIFE

  THERE WAS ONCE a bad wife who made life impossible for her husband and disobeyed him in everything. If he told her to rise early, she slept for three days; if he told her to sleep, she did not sleep at all. If her husband asked her to make pancakes, she said: “You don’t deserve pancakes, you scoundrel!” If her husband said, “Don’t make pancakes, wife, since I don’t deserve them,” she made an enormous panful, two whole gallons of pancakes, and said: “Now eat, scoundrel, and be sure that all of them are eaten!” If he said, “Wife, do not wash the clothes nor go out to cut hay—it is too much for you,” she answered: “No, you scoundrel, I will go and you shall come with me.”

  One day, after a quarrel with her, he went in distress to the woods to pick berries, found a currant bush, and saw a bottomless pit in the middle of it. As he looked at it, he thought to himself: “Why do I go on living with a bad wife and struggling with her? Could I not put her in that pit and teach her a lesson?” He went back home and said: “Wife, do not go to the woods for berries.” “I shall go, you fool!” “I found a currant bush, don’t pick it!” “I shall go and pick it clean—and, what is more, I won’t give you any currants!”

  The husband went out and his wife followed him. He came to the currant bush and his wife jumped toward it and yelled: “Don’t go into that bush, you scoundrel, or I’ll kill you!” She herself went into the middle of it, and fell plop!—into the bottomless pit.

  The husband went home happily and lived there in peace for three days; on the fourth day he went to see how his wife was getting along. He took a long towrope, let it down into the pit, and dragged out a little imp. He was frightened and was about to drop him back into the pit, when the imp began to shriek and then said imploringly: “Peasant, do not put me back, let me out into the world. A bad wife has come into our pit—she torments, bites, and pinches all of us, we are sick to death of her. If you let me out, I will do you a good turn!” So the peasant let him go free
in holy Russia. The imp said: “Well, peasant, let us go to the town of Vologda; I will make people sick and you shall cure them.”

  Now the imp set to work on merchants’ wives and daughters; he would enter into them and they would go mad and fall ill. Our peasant would go to the house of the sick woman; the imp would leave, a blessing would come on the house; everyone thought that the peasant was a doctor, gave him money, and fed him pies. The peasant thus amassed an uncountable sum of money. Then the imp said to him: “You now have plenty, peasant. Are you satisfied? Next I shall enter a boyar’s daughter, and mind you do not come to cure her, else I shall eat you.”

  The boyar sent for the peasant, the famous “doctor.” He came to the boyar’s beautiful house and told him to have all the townspeople and all the carriages and coachmen gather in the street in front of the house; he gave orders that all the coachmen should crack their whips and cry aloud: “The bad wife has come, the bad wife has come!” Then he went into the sick maiden’s room. When he came in, the imp was enraged at him and said: “Why have you come here, Russian man? Now I will eat you!” He said: “What do you mean? I have not come to drive you out, but to warn you that the bad wife is here!” The imp jumped on the window sill, stared fixedly, and listened intently. He heard all the crowd in the street cry in one voice: “The bad wife has come!” “Peasant,” said the imp, “where shall I hide?” “Return to the pit; she won’t go there again!” The imp went there and joined the bad wife. The boyar rewarded the peasant by giving him half his possessions and his daughter in marriage; but the bad wife to this day sits in the pit in nether darkness.

  THE MISER

  THERE WAS ONCE a wealthy merchant named Marka, and never was anyone so stingy as he! One day he went for a walk; on his way he saw an old beggar asking for alms: “For Christ’s sake, pious men, give me something!” Marka the Wealthy passed him by. But a poor peasant who followed him felt pity for the beggar and gave him a kopek. The rich man felt ashamed, stopped, and said to the peasant: “Listen, fellow countryman, lend me a kopek. I want to give something to the beggar, but I have no small coins.” The peasant gave him a kopek and asked: “When shall I come to collect my loan?” “Come tomorrow.” The next day the poor man went to the rich man for his kopek. He entered the broad courtyard. “Is Marka the Wealthy at home?” “He is. What do you want?” asked Marka. “I have come for my kopek.” “Ah brother, come some other time, I have no small coins now.” The poor man bowed low and said: “I will come tomorrow.” The following day he came and again was told: “I have no small coins, but if you have change for a hundred rubles, you can get your kopek. If not, come in two weeks.” Two weeks later, the poor man again went to the rich man. When Marka the Wealthy saw him through the window, he said to his wife: “Listen, wife, I will undress completely and lie under the icons; and you cover me with a shroud and sit down and lament me as though I were dead. When the peasant comes for his loan, tell him that I died today.”

  The wife did as her husband ordered her; she sat down and shed burning tears. The peasant came into the room, and she asked: “What is it?” “I have come to collect my loan from Marka the Wealthy,” answered the poor man. “Ah, little peasant, Marka the Wealthy wished you a long life; he has just died!” “May he go to the kingdom of heaven! Permit me, hostess, to do something for him for my kopek—at least I can wash his sinful body.” Saying this, he snatched a kettle of boiling water and poured it over Marka the Wealthy. Marka could barely stand it; he gritted his teeth and jerked his feet. “I don’t care whether you jerk. Give me back my kopek!” said the poor man. He washed the body and prepared it for burial. “Now, hostess, buy a coffin and have it taken to the church; I will read the psalter over him.” Marka the Wealthy was put in a coffin and taken to the church, and the peasant began to read the psalter over him.

  Dark night came. Suddenly a window opened and thieves broke into the church; the peasant hid behind the altar. The thieves began to share the spoils among them. They shared everything; only a golden saber remained, and each one wanted it for himself and refused to yield it to the others. The poor man suddenly jumped out and cried: “Why do you quarrel? Whoever cuts off the dead man’s head shall have the saber!” At this Marka the Wealthy jumped up, beside himself with fear. The thieves were frightened, threw away their money, and took to their heels. “Now, little peasant,” said Marka, “let us share the money.” They shared it evenly; both of them got a great deal. “And how about my kopek?” said the poor man. “Eh, brother! You can see for yourself, I have no small coins!” And so Marka the Wealthy never returned the kopek.

  THE NOBLEMAN AND THE PEASANT

  ONE DAY A NOBLEMAN went to market and bought a canary for fifty rubles. A peasant happened to see this, and when he came home he told his wife: “Imagine, today I was at the market and I saw the barin buying a small bird for fifty rubles. I will take my gander to him, perhaps he will buy that.” “Take it.” The peasant brought his gander to the nobleman. “Barin, buy this gander.” “How much is it?” asked the nobleman. “A hundred rubles!” “You idiot!” “Since you were willing to pay fifty rubles for a small bird, a hundred is cheap for this one!” The nobleman flew into a rage, beat the peasant, and took his gander for nothing. “Very well,” said the peasant, “you will remember this gander.”

  He returned home, disguised himself as a mason, took a saw and ax, and went by the nobleman’s house, crying: “Who wants a warm vestibule built?” The nobleman heard him, called him in, and asked: “How will you do it?” “It’s very simple. Near here are warm trees; a vestibule built of those warm trees does not have to be heated in winter.” “Ah, brother,” said the nobleman, “show me those trees at once.” “With pleasure.”

  Both of them went to the woods. There the peasant cut an enormous pine tree and began to slice it into two halves; he cut the tree lengthwise and began to drive in a wedge. The nobleman watched him for a while and then foolishly thrust his hand into the cut. No sooner had he done this than the peasant pulled out the wedge and the nobleman’s hand was firmly caught. Then the peasant took a leather strap and began to thrash the nobleman, repeating: “Don’t beat a peasant, don’t take his gander! Don’t beat a peasant, don’t take his gander!” He thrashed to his heart’s delight and said: “Well, barin, I have beaten you once, and I will beat you again unless you return my gander and add a hundred rubles into the bargain.” Having said this he left, and the nobleman stayed in the woods till nightfall. In the end his family became worried, but much time went by before they found him and freed him from the vise.

  The nobleman fell ill, he lay on his bed and moaned. The peasant picked herbs and flowers, stuck them all over himself, disguised himself as a doctor, and once again went near the nobleman’s courtyard, crying: “Does someone need curing?” The nobleman heard him, called him in, and said: “Who are you?” “I am a doctor, I can cure every illness.” “Ah, brother, please cure me.” “Certainly. Have a bath heated.” Straightway a bath was heated. “Now come to be cured,” said the peasant to the nobleman. “Only don’t take anyone with us to the bathroom—watch out for the evil eye!” They went to the bathroom and the nobleman undressed. “Well, sir,” asked the doctor, “can you bear it if in this heat I apply ointment to you?” “No, I can’t,” said the nobleman. “What shall we do then? Do you want to be tied?” “Please tie me.” The peasant tied him with a rope, took a whip, and began to drub and pommel him, repeating: “Don’t beat a peasant, don’t take his gander! Don’t beat a peasant, don’t take his gander!” When he was about to leave, he said: “Now, barin, I have beaten you twice; I shall beat you a third time unless you return the gander and two hundred rubles into the bargain.” The nobleman got out of his bath more dead than alive, decided not to wait for a third time, and sent the peasant the gander and two hundred rubles.

  THE GOAT COMES BACK

  BILLY GOAT, billy goat, where have you been?

  I was grazing horses.

  And where are the horses? />
  Nikolka led them away.

  And where is Nikolka?

  He went to the larder.

  And where is the larder?

  It was flooded with water.

  And where is the water?

  The oxen drank it.

  And where are the oxen?

  They went to the mountain.

  And where is the mountain?

  The worms gnawed it away.

  And where are the worms?

  The geese ate them all.

  And where are the geese?

  They went to the junipers.

  And where are the junipers?

  The maids broke them.

  And where are the maids?

  They all got married.

  And where are their husbands?

  They all died.

  IVANUSHKO THE LITTLE FOOL

  ONCE UPON A TIME there lived an old man and his old wife. They had three sons: the two older ones were clever, but the third was called Ivanushko the Little Fool. The clever brothers grazed sheep in the field, but the fool did nothing at all; the whole day long he sat on the stove, catching flies. One day the old woman prepared some rye dumplings and said to the fool: “Here are some dumplings, take them to your brothers for their dinner.” She filled a pot with the dumplings, and he took it and lumbered off to find his brothers. It was a sunny day; when Ivanushko came out on the road, he saw his shadow at his side and thought: “Who is this man? He walks by my side and does not leave me for an instant; surely he wants some dumplings.” He began to throw dumplings at his shadow, and one after another threw them all away, but the shadow still kept walking at his side. “What an insatiable glutton,” said the fool angrily and hurled his pot at the shadow—and the shards flew in all directions.